


i never thought that you would be the one to hold my heart

by dragonretirement



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Aromantic, Asexual Character, M/M, Queerplatonic Relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-23
Updated: 2014-05-23
Packaged: 2018-01-26 04:49:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,619
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1675310
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dragonretirement/pseuds/dragonretirement
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gavin whipped out his phone to show them all some new viral video. His safari was open to some page called AO3, of which the scrolling header read ‘Mavin Milk Fic’.</p><p>(aka im so so sorry)</p>
            </blockquote>





	i never thought that you would be the one to hold my heart

Michael Jones was, by definition, not a romantic person. He’d had his fair share of relationships, but nothing ever felt _right_. There was nothing wrong with the people he’d dated, all good guys and girls alike (and plenty hot, too). The fact is, the only common denominator in those failed endeavours was Michael himself. He tried not to think about it. He was young, just out of high school, and he had better things to do than search for that elusive soulmate everyone seemed to be looking for. And when he was hired by Rooster Teeth and flown down to Austin, a soulmate was the last thing on his mind. Just his luck, then, that that was the exact time he found it. 

* 

When Michael first met Gavin Free, no sparks flew. No bells rang in either of their heads. Their initial impressions of eachother were pretty similar, “that idiot/asshole English/Jersey kid”. Michael Jones was as unconcerned with romance as ever, content to just chill with that mingy (damnit, he really had to stop picking up Gavin’s stupid fuckin’ words) bastard and do their job. They grew closer and closer, but Michael thought nothing of it. Why should he? That was, until, he found the first fanfiction.

Gavin, of all people, had showed it to him. They (being the Achievement Hunter guys, Barbara, Burnie, and a “sorry, not tonight” text from Gus, who had unanimously taken to putting a stuffed animal in a chair to represent him, complete with crossed arms, obviously) were doing celebratory bevs at the Ramsey household, and Gavin whipped out his phone to show them all some new viral video. His safari was open to some page called AO3, of which the scrolling header read ‘Mavin Milk Fic’. Gavin seemed completely unphased when Ray pointed it out by yelling, “You reading that good shit, yeah, Gavin?”

He just grinned and replied, “Yeah. In this one, Michael gives me a milk enema. It’s a wild ride.” Burnie lets out a sharp breath, and Geoff mutters something or other about butt buddies. Everyone seems to act like it’s no big deal, except for Michael. His ears perked up when he heard his name. The sentence following it, however, left him more dizzy than the beer had.

“What the fuck?” Michael murmured before he could stop himself.

“Hey dude, no need to put on the rage quit voice,” Gavin replied a little hurriedly.

 _Oh,_ Michael thought. _Maybe I didn't murmur._ “Sorry, Gav. I just... do people actually write that shit?”

“For sure. Haven’t you heard?” Gavin slurred, putting an arm around Michael. “We’re practically an internet sensation.”

Geoff put a glass up and Gavin swung his arm back around to clink his bottle against it, knocking his elbow against Michael’s face and spilling a fair amount of alcohol on him in the process.

“Shit! Sorry bro!” Gavin turned back and yelled at Michael, but he was already off the couch and walking away.

“You’re drunk as dicks, Gavin. Get to fucking bed.” He was bringing the vinegar, as they say.

“But you’re my lovely little b--” Gavin protested, but he was cut off by Michael’s long stream of expletives as he attempted to wring the beer out of his shirt. A few seconds later came the slam of the door.

*

The text came around 9 am the next morning. Michael had been up all night expecting it, picking at his fingers and watching late night infomercials, bracing for impact. While on his third consecutive bowl of popcorn, his phone screamed “YOU HAVE A TEXT, YA DONUT!” in an obnoxiously british accent. Damn it. He’d forgotten that he set his phone to ring differently for Gavin.

He stayed seated on his couch for another five minutes, trying to get up his courage. When he finally decided it wasn’t going to get any easier, Michael got up and grabbed his phone from the other room. He held it like a hand grenade ready to blow, not daring to look at it until he was seated.

 **Ga(sshole)vin:** _What the hell happened with you last night?_

 

Fuck. Fuck, fuck, shit fuck goddamnit fucking hell shit fuck fuck fuck.

How was he supposed to tell Gavin that the thought of them... _together_ (ugh) made him sick without sounding like a homophobic dickweed?

 _Funny that I’m worried about being homophobic,_ Michael thought, _considering the amount of guys I’ve jacked off to._ He almost cracked a smile for a moment, before he remembered.

There was only one thing he could do. And that was to punch a pillow over and over until he wasn’t sure whether he was crying or if his vision was just blurred from anger. He screamed and cursed and prayed to whoever who would listen that he be taken off of this miserable planet already.

Then, an hour later, he stopped.

Just as quickly as he flew into rage, he became paralyzed with fear. Michael felt as if he was staring down the edge of a cliff, knowing soon he would have to hurl himself over it. His gut dropped out at the thought.

Slowly, very, very slowly, he picked up his phone and slid it open. He stared at the message, willing it to go away. When it didn’t, he tried to type out a response. Over and over his shaking fingers tried to create some resemblance of English words. And over and over again, he failed. It took him fifteen minutes of shaking to type out a single sentence: _come to my place, can’t explain in text._

The reply came almost immediately.

 **Ga(sshole)vin:** _No butt stuff._

Michael smirked. His hands were calmer already. _i promise not to stick it in you._

*

Ten minutes later, Gavin was knocking on his door, really more a neurotic, nervous tap than anything. Michael took ten deep breaths and went to open it.

“MY BOI!” Gavin screamed as soon as the door creaked open and Michael’s face appeared. Michael ignored him and opened the door wide enough for him to walk in. Gavin strutted in like it was his own home and plopped down on the couch, flipping through a discarded magazine.

Michael had no idea what to do. Should he sit with Gavin? Crack a joke? Take it serious? He skittered around the perimeter of the room for probably too long before walking into the kitchen, scolding himself. _Quick, you asshole. Say something._

“Need coffee? Must be one hell of a hangover.” It came out much more bitter than he’d intended, and he regretted it the minute it left his mouth.

“Come off it, Michael. You’re being a right git.” Gavin, too, seemed to regret the harshness of his words.

“What do you want me to say? That I’m so glad people write stuff about us in love and I want you to take me on this kitchen fucking table right now?” His voice rose with every word, anger overtaking him.

“Michael. Do you have a crush on me?” Gavin’s voice was so sweet and cautious. _Fuck him,_ Michael thought.

“No! Christ. I don’t wanna be your fucking boyfriend.” Michael had taken to wringing an already dry towel with his hands to avoid breaking a plate or something equally as dramatic.

There was several minutes of tense silence before Gavin peeped a quiet ‘okay,’ and walked towards the door.

“ _Wait!_ ” Michael yelled before he could stop himself. “Just... _wait,_ you fuck.” He motioned back to the couch, and Gavin tentatively sat back down. “I... don’t think I’ve ever liked anyone. Like, _like_ like. Ugh. Whatever, you know what I mean, asshole.” His face was bright red and he felt as though he would faint at any moment.

“Are you... are you asexual?” Gavin asked. There didn’t seem to be any harshness in his voice, just gentle curiosity.

“Am I _what?_ Do I look like a fucking sponge, dickhead?” So, maybe he overreacted. Still, that’s not what he expected Gavin to say. Something like ‘ _Begone, freak!_ ’ or ‘ _You’re fired!_ ’ was more expected.

“No, Jesus. That’s not what it means. Just come sit.” It was Gavin’s turn to motion Michael towards him, and he obeyed, making sure to leave plenty of space between them. “Aseuxality means, you don’t want to have sex. Nothing wrong with that. Some people are just like that. I’m... I’m like that.” The words seemed rehearsed, all rushed and jumbled but like he had panicked over them a thousand times before. “Ar-- d’yo-- do you think you might be like that, too?”

Michael didn’t have to think about it for a second. “Hell, no! Dude, I am _all about_ vagina. And dick. Y’know. I’m not picky.” Gavin chuckled a bit and so did Michael, but underneath it, the heavy silence was still weighing them both down. “It’s. I think it’s the other stuff I’m not too fond of.”

“As in?” Gavin seemed intrigued.

“Like... dating. Holding hands. Being in love, buying chocolate, all that bullshit. Fuck it. Fuck Valentine’s Day and fuck my exes and fuck me for being so damn unable to take someone to fucking dinner.” The words rushed out of Michael before he had time to censor it. He’d never been so honest to someone before.

“Oh!” Gavin replied, completely unphased. “I think I have a word just for you!” _Oh great_ , he thought. _Another fucking label._ He clenched his jaw and tried to smile.

“Maybe you’re aromantic!”

Then, without missing a beat, Gavin leaned over and gave Michael a bone crushing hug. And even with Gavin squeezing his lungs so much he thought he would pop, Michael felt able to breathe for the first time in a very, very long time.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Hey! So this is just the first part of what will hopefully be a pretty substantial fanfiction, this just sets it up. Title is from the Christina Perri song, Arms. No judging. Some characters I tagged play big roles in the coming parts, just not here. Thanks for reading! <3


End file.
